For No One
by Pattie Anne Boyd
Summary: Meredith Cadman caught Paul's eye at one of his shows. It's been a year now, and the two are still going strong. The media finds out, causing things to be a bit shaken up. And on top of that, someone else discovers their love for her. NOT ATU
1. Pot Head Paul's Tea

**A/N: PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS. Here goes! So, my loveliest lovelies, I would like to inform you that this is a spin off of Surprise which is under the Doctor Who section. This story barely involves Doctor Who. It mentions it a little bit in the first chapter, but that's about it. I really liked Meredith's character, so this is simply...a sequel to an unfinished story. Actually, funny thing is, I have written more chapters of this than I have of Surprise. There are only 3 completed chapters of Surprise while I have 10 completed chapters of this. Hahaha! This chapter is rather short, but I can pretty much guarantee you that this is the shortest they are going to get. This is also a bit on the mature side...o.o Read, review, and enjoy!**

**A bit of a summary of Surprise? Why, sure: The Doctor takes Meredith to a parallel universe to see her favorite band, the Beatles, play live. The parallel universe has it's own history, so things are different. Meredith catches Paul's eye, and they quickly build a friendship. But soon, the Doctor has to deal with being broken-hearted (even though he refuses to admit it) because the girl he loves is drifting away from him and falling in love with a Beatle. The Doctor gets very distracted from his work, and tells Meredith of a Dalek problem that happens elsewhere. He leaves for a little bit, but comes back to get Meredith. He convinces her to come home by telling her about family and other things similar to that. The Doctor figures out a way to keep the bridge to the parallel universe sort of accessible so any time Meredith would like the visit the universe, she can. However, in the process of fixing the bridge in that certain way, it's possible for the Doctor to cause the parallel universe to collapse. And so, as the Doctor works on enabling the bridge to be accessible, Meredith decides that she's going to check on the universe. The Doctor warns her not to, but she doesn't listen. Instead, she walks out into the middle of Liverpool. Right when she's out there, something goes wrong with the Doctor, and the bridge closes. Completely. And so, Meredith is stuck in Liverpool in 1963 without the Doctor there with her. It's kind of a Rose-ish thing to happen, but hey, it's just to be a repeat of the last time the Doctor lost a girl he loved.**

**I wrote this such a long time ago, so bear with me. And go look up the acoustic version of While My Guitar Gently Weeps with added strings by George Martin because it's _BRILLIANT!_**

**Well, at first it's all Doctor Who-y but it lasts for a total of 11 lines/paragraphs. You'll survive.**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them. I also do not own Doctor Who or anyone/anything associated with it.**

**Meredith's POV**

**Pot-Head Paul's Tea**

I guess you can say I've adapted to this time period and these people.

Thank you so much to the Doctor. It's been a while since I saw him last... On the other side of the bridge. The bridge that closed.

The bridge that separated us.

And from what I can tell from his stories of the past, I am just another Rose Tyler.

Just another best friend, sidekick, love..._lost._

But like Rose, I wasn't just a companion. It was obvious that he loved her, as it was for me. Rose and I are similar. Very similar.

The Doctor always had the hardest time telling us "no". He'd hate on himself for getting so close to us, for he knew that we could never spend our lives together. Well, he thought that for me he could, but he was wrong.

And of course, he got to know us so well that he'd surprise us with numerous things that he knew would fascinate us. It was his way of saying I love you to us without actually saying it.

I must admit, I loved him back.

And to transition. To transition from a love so strong and an adventurous life to a brand new world with brand new people...a brand new life. It was hard; harder than I expected it to be. Or maybe I had expected it to be like that. I just never wanted to accept it.

At least I had Paul.

* * *

I sat next to George on the couch, looking over at a home magazine. He was pointing to houses, laughing lightly at them. I smiled.

George was my best friend. My best friend of all time. I came to this world not too long ago, and it didn't take long for our friendship to kick off. George was quiet. Me? Hah, I am the farthest thing from quiet you'll ever meet.

However, around me, George isn't as shy. As he says, "I talk when I feel like it and shut up when I don't feel like talking."

It's so true.

He and I get into long conversations, we joke around…a lot. The two of us have so many insider jokes, that I can even sense Paul's jealousy when George and I are chatting and joking. Our constant references to insider jokes that have been going on since our friendship first began, really tick him off. It's quite funny, actually.

Another thing that ticks Paul off is that George and I have a fondness in food. George and I are the people who eat constantly and never get fat. So throughout the day we have together, I usually pull George to a kitchen to get a snack. It's obvious it ticks Macca off. I mean, how could a man like Paul not get suspicious?

George and I were munching on some toast as we looked at houses in the home catalog, making fun of a lot of them. Really, anything can occupy us. George and I had been coming up with our own little ads for the crappiest of houses.

We were also the only ones who were amused. Paul had lost interest and walked off to go make some tea.

Oh tea. The sweet smell of black tea. Paul's black tea. He'd always make me a cup, putting in the right amount of milk and 3 teaspoons of sugar. Somehow, it always came out perfect.

This honestly surprises me, because I would think that a pot-head like Paul would make horrible tea. Apparently not.

He came into the room, looking at us. "Would anyone fancy some tea?" asked Paul with the voice of a servant.

"Took you long enough," George said, not looking up from the houses. I just smiled up at Paul and nodded.

Paul looked down at George. "At least I was doing something productive." He told him, taking our tea cups off his tray and handing them to us. He sat down next to me on the couch, clutching his own cup and sipping it.

I instantly put my feet up on his lap, taking a sip of my tea. The sweet, sweet tea. It was barely even black. Nobody ever made their tea the way Paul did for me, which is why I only drank it at home.

"MEREDITH CADMAN, THIS HOUSE IS CALLING YOUR NAME!" George yelled and jumped up, after he had set his cup of tea on the tea table. He then bent down below beside me to show me a picture of a rather pretty house.

I arched an eyebrow at him for his seriousness. "It says here that the house has a TV, a theatre, and better yet, it's…dark blue." He told me.

I scrunched my nose. "Jerk." I scoffed. George had a thing for pointing anything out to me that had a similar color to the TARDIS.

George just smirked at me. "Come on, let's get today's show on the road." He said, grabbing his cup of tea and finishing it.

Paul and I stood, now done with our tea. We put our dishes in the sink for the maid, and then made our way outside to Geo's car, where we left to go pick up the other two doofs, to then head out to, yet another, press conference.


	2. The Press Conference

**A/N: LOVELIES! So I decided to be generous and give you chapter 2 because chapter 1 is just so short... So, here it is. Chapter 2 of Meredith McLennonstarrison...actually, I think I may end up changing that name, but to what? Haha. :) I'm so happy I finally decided to put this up here... I've written so much of it. Ugh. And I just love this story...UGH. Okay, I'm sorry. Read and Review! Enjoy! :) I love you my little lovelies!**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them. I also do not own Doctor Who or anyone/anything associated with it.**

**Meredith's POV**

**The Press Conference**

I stood by a table of food. There was cheese, lots and lots of cheese. And crackers as well. No fancy dips or chips. There were bottles of coke as well. No, wait. Not "coke". Coca-Cola...wait, that's not it. They had pop. That's the word.

So, obviously, I'm struggling with learning the language of people in the 60s. They use words, you know, that are used as slang differently than the people of my time. Sometimes I can't help but just giggle, because a lot of the sentences sound silly.

I remember when I first met Paul. I had caught his eye, and he had invited me in his home for some tea. And no, he didn't make it the way I liked it, because he didn't know me yet, so no questions. Anywho, Paul and I were sitting at his table, and I was trying my best to stay calm. I mean, imagine yourself in love with an extremely talented (like Paul), extremely funny (like Paul), extremely handsome (like Paul), and extremely caring (like Paul) man, but you know you can't have him because he's old by the time you had fallen in love with him. Too old for you. I'm talking 50 year difference. You're about 20, he's about 70. But it's not the current him you're in love with, you're in love with that guy from when he was about 20. But you just know you can _never _have him.

That's the torture I went through when I fell in love with the young Paul. That was him in the 60s. I was in _born _in the 90s. I could never have him...

Now, anyway, you're imagining yourself in love with that impossible man. Your _never_. Suddenly, you befriend another guy, who happens to be a time-traveler. He takes you back in time to that time period in which your "never" lives in. You end up having to stay in that time era. Suddenly, you meet your impossible man, and he invites you to have tea with him. Imagine how you'd be feeling sitting with him.

Okay, that's me with Paul. Now, back to the story...

Paul looked at me, and pulled out a cigarette. "Want a fag?" he had asked me. Of course I was stupid enough to burst into laughter. From my time period, people used "fag" as slang to insult someone, by basically calling them gay. Paul didn't know that, and he was simply offering me a cigarette. Oh Paulie...

So now you can try to imagine how hard it is to adjust to the 60s. I'm working on it though.

I observed the snack table, seeing all sorts of things. I grabbed a few plates and grabbed some random snacks, forming a bunch of different plates for the boys. I went around to all four of them and gave them their plates. Honestly, that's probably why they put me through the torture of press conferences: they can _always _count on me for getting some food for them. After I was done being their servant, I stood by Paul to hear what ridiculous questions the media would ask him. For some stupid reason, they were all asking questions about Jane. Which was fine, I guess, considering no one knew my actual purpose with the Beatles. They all saw me as a servant or slave or whatever. Yippie.

Losing my interest in all of the Jane questions, I turned around to find that George had been standing back to back with me. I grinned and hugged him around the waist. "Oh, Georgie, you're the best girlfriend I've ever had," I smiled, not giving a shit whatsoever about what the hell the press would think.

George, who was much taller than me, turned and looked down. "Oh, Meredith, you are by far the loveliest boyfriend any girl could wish for." He hugged me with a laugh. We got weird stares from the press.

I stood straight. Pointing back in forth between George and I, I told the press, "We're not dating..." I shook my head.

"Nope," said George. "Just a joke. That's what best friends do." He nodded. I nodded in agreement.

"Alright, alright, we believe you, don't fret," A lady said. "But tell me, she is no servant?" She pointed to me with her pen. I frowned.

"No, we like her, she's like our cat," John said, coming into our circle of people. He sounded like a drunken chipmunk, although he only made the voice for his own entertainment.

"Then why does she always get you boys food?" The lady protested.

"Because you people don't let them boys get a chance to munch down on some things!" I said, facepalming.

The lady began giving an argument on all the evidence of me being their personal slave, as George and I were suddenly facing each other and silently talking, seemingly mocking the woman.

"Her!" said the voice of a man, coming from Paul's direction. I turned to see a reporter pointing at me. Paul's face looked a little worried.

"No, no, no, no, no..." He shook his hands, turning to the man. "I never cheated on Jane with anyone, and I told you that!"

I was then fully next to Paul, glancing between him and the man. I felt George's presence behind me. I felt surrounded by a wall of taller men. Oh wait, I was.

"But she's always next to you and following you around. She goes everywhere with you guys. I suspect that there was a relationship between you two while you were still with Jane." The reporter crossed his arms and nodded his head firmly.

"No!" Paul said. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, Meredith and I had started our relationship _after_ the breakup with Jane, which was over a year ago?"

The press. They looked at me. Then at Paul. Then back at me. My face burned. I glanced up at Paul, who looked like a deer in headlights. The whole room was silent. _Everyone _had heard what Paul said. Everyone had realized what he _really _said.

In my head, I was screaming. Screaming at Paul to somehow reverse what he said, but his face stayed still. I heard him swallow. I nudged his arm, urging him to say something to fix it. He looked down at me then back at the man. "If we...were." He said. I could tell he felt pained to say that.

"Uh-uh, no." said another woman. "What the _hell_ is going on here?" She looked at Paul and I.

"Oh, nothing, just being criticized by a bunch of reporters who think they know our lives better than we do," muttered George from behind me. I noticed that I had been leaning back on him, and he had just been naturally holding me up as he stood there.

In effort to get away from Paul a little, instead of clinging to him and supporting the media's side of the case, I leaned back on George more. They knew we were best friends, so they couldn't think wrongly.

George put a hand on my shoulder and gripped it tightly. I was tapping my foot rapidly, making it obvious that I was nervous. I wanted Paul and I to have a very private relationship, not a public one! I was practically having an anxiety attack. George's grip turned into a strong massage, in attempt to calm me.

I heard him whistling and I turned my head back at him. There was the face he made whenever he would whistle. Oh my, it was funny. He was whistling a song he and I once wrote in the car while on the way to a restaurant. The song was about food, of course. And it was the funniest song ever.

I giggled and turned my attention back to the group, who, including Paul, was staring at me. "Uh...hi."

Paul sighed, glancing down. It brought my attention to his hand, that was by his side, but secretly open and waiting to be filled. I finally pulled myself away from George, his hand slowly and lightly coming down from my shoulder and falling by his side, and I slid my hand into Paul's, lacing my fingers with his.

His warmth.

There were murmurs coming from the press. Paul took a deep breath. "Alright, so Meredith and I are indeed dating." He confessed, and squeezed a prayer into my hand. "But I did not cheat on Jane with her. I met Meredith after my breakup with Jane. Now, it's been a year since that breakup. Can you all please just find something else to worry about? Please?"

And so it ended with that.


	3. Protective Paul

**A/N: Hey loveliest of the lovely lovelies. Chapter three of this story...:) I'll be updating The Timelines as soon as possible...y'know maybe I'll give you two chapters today...I haven't decided. I'm listening to Four Sticks by Led Zeppelin. :D Alright, here comes a Drama Llama chapter! Enjoy!**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them. **

**Meredith's POV**

**Protective Paul**

We all left the press conference, piling into their taxi. Paul held me closely next to him. He'd never held me this close in the car. He had an arm behind me and holding onto my waist, as his other hand played with mine. He kissed my head many times. I glanced at George, who was next to me in the seat. Oh, of course Paul was holding me closely. He had seen that George was comforting me when Paul should've been, even though I had preferred Paul to not support the other belief.

Paul is so overprotective. I hate it. He doesn't want George and I to fall in love. At all. But at the same time, I love him for being overprotective. He's crazy for me. And he's not afraid to do whatever he can to keep us together. I can trust him. And it's also extremely adorable.

I was silent for the ride to our restaurant. Paul was as well. It seemed as if we were talking to each other telepathically. I wish. I glanced over at George, who looked worried and confused. He rested his head against the window. He noticed me looking at him, and smiled awkwardly. I smiled lightly back and he looked back out the window, his smile faded.

Paul kissed my head again. I snuggled up closer to him as I pulled my attention away from George and gave it to John and Ringo, who were reciting some poetry. John was teaching Ringo the ways you had to pronounce each word from each line. It was actually extremely funny, but I wasn't in the mood. I closed my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I heard Paul whisper in my ear.

I turned myself a tiny bit and looked at him. "For what?"

"I was stupid today. And I'm sorry for it," He whispered. I looked to the front to find John and Ringo still in their loud, strange, and poetic conversation. No one was noticing us talking, and that made not only me, but the atmosphere in the car, comfortable. Thank you, John, for being the obnoxiously loud one.

I turned back to Paul. "You weren't stupid." I shook my head.

Paul sighed. "I made you feel uncomfortable and nervous..." He said, voice no longer in whisper, but just low.

"Why don't you say sorry to yourself, first? You did this to yourself." I said, turning back around, crossing my arms.

"Meredith, you went to George for comfort, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

I noticed George perk up a little by the mention of his name, but he sank back into the window soon afterwards.

"That's what I'm saying. You did that to yourself," I shrugged. "It's the past, Paul, it doesn't matter anymore."

Paul turned me around. "Yes, it does." He said and his voice lowered back to a whisper. "I can't have you going to _George_ for comfort all the time. I'm sorry, and I'll make sure the next time that you need comfort, I'll be available for you to go to instead of George."

"George is my best friend, Paul. It would be strange if he didn't comfort me." I said.

"Not massaging your shoulder and whistling a tune to you!" He said, voice becoming loud.

"It was a wonderful massage, Paul, and he was whistling our restaurant song to make me laugh!" I shook my head. "Please, stop arguing. I can't take anymore tonight."

"I'm sorry," He said. He leaned inward and kissed me on the lips. He pulled me back into his arms completely, so we could do some more car cuddling. We did have an hour long drive, anyway...

Finally, John and Ringo had softened up a bit. I had my eyes closed, as I giggled. Paul was whispering things in my ear. Things about our future. Where we would live, what our wedding would be like, how many kids we'd have, and their names. He told me about later on in life, about our years as an old married couple. The things we would argue about. Every now and then he would kiss me on the cheek or head.

"Awh, now Paulie, would it kill you and yer girlfriend to get a room?" Someone asked. I opened my eyes to see John turned around, looking back at us. He and Ringo and laughed.

"Oh, stuff it, John," I said. I crossed my arms, giving him a death glare. I hated it when John ruined me and Paul's moments.

"Awh, come off it, I was only just playin' 'round," he said. His hand stretched out and he messed up my hair.

I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch my hair, Lennon!" I glared at him again and then tried to smooth my hair out.

"I got it, luv." Paul said and pulled out a comb from his pocket. I looked at him weirdly.

"Aha, never knew you were dating such a lady, now did you, Meredith?" John said.

"Shut it, John," both Paul and I said in unison.

John held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry." He said. "But remember, Meredith, I'm always available in case you need a real man to sleep with." He winked at me.

I slapped him across the face. "When will you give it a rest, John? You've been hitting on me ever since we met, and I still haven't even let you touch my lips. Never mind my body."

He ignored the slap and arched his eyebrows, his eyes widening with them. "Well, there's always a first time, luv." He grinned at me.

"John, you're engaged anyways!" I said, disgusted. "I don't see why you'd be attracted to me when you have a fiancé."

"I don't lose interest in a bird until I get to sleep with 'er," He said, smiling proudly. It must've been his motto. "And me fiancé don't need to know about it."

I sighed. "John..."

"Just one night?" He pleaded. "I've been keeping me eye on you for a while now, but yer girlfriend over 'ere has been keeping an eye on me to make sure I don't make a move on ya. Ain't that right, Protective Paul?"

I giggled slightly, and looked at Paul, who was glaring at John.

"Oh no, I think I'm pissing the lady off," John grinned. I laughed again. "Paulie's embarrassed at being protective, isn't he?"

"John, shut it. At least I don't cheat on her like you cheat on your fiancé," Paul said.

"At least I can keep my whole love life completely secret," He said, Paul's face turning red and furious. John's engagement with Anna was still surprisingly a secret. And so were his affairs. Only people who knew were me and the guys. I'd always felt bad for keeping a secret like that away from her.

Paul pulled me right up against him, protectively. John and Paul began to insult each other loudly.

I hated when it got like this. John and Paul got in a lot of arguments, usually after the times John would hit on me. But this time it was worse. Paul was gripping me tightly, protecting me from John. I glanced over at George, who wasn't even paying attention. He looked sort of sad. Or maybe it was annoyed? I shrugged it off, and looked at Ringo, who was shaking his head at Paul and John. He noticed me looking at him and mouthed the words "I'm sorry."

The thing about Ringo, he was a nicer John. He wasn't a dick. But he liked me. And he hated Paul for having me. He didn't make too much off a fuss about it though. It was just a crush, and a bit of jealousy.

George was my best friend. The one I could _always _talk to. Except for now. He was too annoyed to even look in the direction of the four of us. I couldn't blame him.

Paul's grip began to hurt. A lot. He was yelling at John. "Paul," I whispered, trying to pry his fingers off of my arm. He didn't hear me. I noticed the driver, looking back at us, trying to tell us to soften up. "Paul," I said.

Ringo climbed back to us, making the driver yell even more. You could barely hear him over John and Paul though. Ringo, practically sitting on George, began to help me pry Paul off. In the midst of yelling at John, Paul looked at Ringo and I and yelled at us to "fuck off" before he continued to yell at John.

I frowned, getting pissed. I pulled his hands off of me, and before he could even get his hands back on me, I began to climb up front where there was space for me to sit freely.

John had watched me crawl over to his side, and stayed in his position, which was sitting on the seat completely backwards. I could tell by his words, tone, and look in his eyes that his purpose of yelling had switched over from just insulting Paul to defending me.

"WATCH OUT!" George suddenly screamed, and we all looked out the windshield to see a giant truck losing control and spinning towards us. The driver was turning his wheel as much as possible, trying his best to avoid the truck.

I screamed, and found John's arms around me, protecting me as much as possible. The car was slowing down as it was turning itself in the little amount of road we had. There was no way we could get out of way of the truck.

Suddenly I felt myself being pulled. John. John had opened the car door while it was turning and pulled me out. We landed on the road, but he got up and picked me up bridal style, shaking off the pain. He pulled me away from the truck and car to the sidewalk. I was crying. I was in pain from being whipped to the ground.

Worst of all, it was pouring outside, and the streets were flooded. Not severely, but enough to make a truck lose control and a car slow down. But it was shallow enough that it hurt when John and I jumped from the car.

John held me close, still holding me bridal style. My face was buried in his chest. I was crying out of shock. John had just saved my life.

There were confused fans. They were running up to John and I, asking if we were okay. Some were asking for autographs, as if nothing else was happening.

"Oh my god!" A girl screamed. "Are the other Beatles in that car you came from?" She asked John. John had been ignoring them. Instead, he was focused on comforting me. But I knew at that moment, we both looked back up and at the road.

The car was no longer in sight. "No!" I screamed, wrestling myself out of John's grasp. When I was on the ground, I found myself running with a limp. I went to the intersection and looked down a road to see that the giant truck had crashed into a lamppost. I couldn't see the car. "NO!" I screamed yet again.

"Meredith!" John yelled, putting his arms around me and holding me back. "Someone call emergency services!" He yelled out to no one in particular. He sounded rather intelligent at that point.

It didn't matter to me, though. I pulled myself away from John and began to run towards the truck. I ran on the other side of the giant truck to find that there wasn't a crushed car. I sighed out of relief. But before I even finished the sigh, I noticed it.

The car. And a wall. And four guys in it. No..two. I was unsure, but I ran to the wet, crippled up car. The driver's face was motionless against the steering wheel. I screamed at it. "Oh my god." I covered my mouth.

John was behind me again. I turned around. "Is he dead?" I asked. I had never experienced something like this.

John just hugged me. "I don't know, Meredith. I don't know."

That's when I heard a voice curse. In the back seat was Paul. He was on the floor, stuck between the two seats. Ringo was next to him, trying to get him out.

"PAUL!" I screamed. I opened the door. John and I helped Paul out and Ringo followed. I immediately hugged Paul. "Oh my god, Paul!" I cried into his chest this time.

"Shh, Meredith. I'm fine." He said, rubbing my back.

"I'm pretty damn sure that driver's not," said John.

"Would it really kill you to shut the fuck up?" Paul asked John. "And what the fuck do you think you're doing, saving my girlfriend when I could've saved her?" He asked.

"I was saving her life," John shrugged. "See, I wasn't just thinking of myself in that situation. That's why I saved her before you could."

"Oh, look at you, John," Paul hissed, "Trying to be her hero, hmm?"

"Oh, just protecting her when she _actually _needs it," John came back at him.

Paul fumed. "Stop trying to make my girlfriend fall in love with you so she can sleep with you!" He snapped.

"Paul, he was just saving my life!" I came in. "He saved me because he wanted me to live, not because he wanted me in bed! God dammit, why the fuck must you guys argue _so_ fucking much?" I screamed. I pushed Paul away from me and began to walk up the sidewalk. I didn't know where I was going, but it would be somewhere better than there.

The water was soaking my feet, making me shiver. The rain was cold as well. I heard the splashes of someone's feet in the water right as I was walking away. "No, Ringo," I said, knowing who it was.

"I'm sorry," Ringo said quietly, causing me to sigh. I heard him walk away.

"Meredith, don't you turn that corner!" I heard Paul yell to me. I flipped the bird to him and turned at it.

That's when it occurred to me. "George." My eyes widened. I turned back around, and ran into the middle of the street. I looked down it for any sight of George. "GEORGE!" I screamed out.

No response.

I felt myself crying; no longer out of shock or nervousness. They were fearful tears. And hurtful. I glanced down at my throbbing ankle. It was scratched up and bloody. Really bloody. I found my body beginning to get hot. My mind was pounding, as if these clouds full of empty, meaningless information were floating around.

I began to fall and I hit the ground.

"MEREDITH!" I heard three boys scream in unison.

Then everything went black.


	4. Jealous Paul

**A/N: Okay, so I'm in a hurry. I'm updating this story because I have writers block for the other two...so here! Enjoy! Heh..**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them.**

**Meredith's POV**

**Jealous Paul**

I stirred around, a beeping noise disturbing my rest. I felt a sharp pain in my ankle as I moved it, causing me to curse under my breath.

"Don't move it, Meredith," I heard a familiar voice say.

I opened my eyes to see a man sitting in a chair next to my bed. He was dressed in white. Not formally, just a white button down tucked into white pants. He wore white accessories as well. "George?"

George smiled at me. "Hello, Meredith," He said.

I looked around the room. The whole room was white. The walls, the curtains, the bed, the sheets. Even the clothes on me.

I looked up at him, eyes widening. I got a flashback of the accident. "Are we," I began, and lowered my voice to a whisper, "Dead?"

George laughed. "Yes, welcome to Heaven," He said.

I felt tears running down my face. "I wasn't ready to die! I was living so happily!" I sobbed into my hands.

George came over to the bed, sitting next to me and rubbing my back. "Meredith, you suck at catching sarcasm." He said. "Don't worry, we're still alive."

I hit his arm. "Don't do that to me, George," I said. "There was a high chance that we could've died from the accident!"

"I know, I'm sorry." He said.

"So why are we all in white?" I asked.

"Well, we're in a hospital, and my clothes were soaked, so they gave me these to borrow." He said, sitting back in his chair.

I nodded slowly. "And where were you after the accident?" I asked him.

"I got out of the car right as I yelled 'watch out', because I managed to get the driver to stop when I alarmed him. Then I called up for a medical engine." He said.

"I thought you were dead you know," I told him.

"I know. I was told that the reason you fainted is because you got scared and thought I was dead." He said.

"Probably.." I shrugged. "So what's wrong with me?"

"Bruised ankle, that's all. It'll be better by the end of the day." He said.

"I'm guessing that the accident was yesterday, hmm?" I grinned. "And I've slept here, resting my ankle, as you watched me sleep like the creepy man you are?" He laughed and I held up my arms to him.

George smiled at me. He helped me out of bed. "Time to check you out. And get the other guys."

"Where are they?" I asked as we began to leave the room.

"Foodcourt. They'll be up soon. They wanted to check out together." He informed me.

I made a bitchface. "I really don't feel like seeing any of them. Can't we just check out now?"

George looked at me and frowned. "Fine," He sighed. He approached the desk of the lady and signed the paperwork to check me out.

When he finished, he looked at the lady and handed the paperwork to her. "Can you leave a message for Paul McCartney, Richard Starkey, and John Lennon for me, please?" He asked her.

She nodded and smiled. She took out a pen and paper.

George smiled. "Tell them I've checked out the lady, and we'll be at me house, please." He said.

"Will do, Mr. Harrison," She said.

"Thank you, ma'am," He said.

He wrapped his arm around my waste and began to walk me down the hallway. I was slow. Too slow. After 5 minutes, we were still in sight of the desk lady. "Screw it," George said. He picked me up bridal style and carried me out of the hospital.

"Oh, George, I don't think I can make it any longer," I said, putting a hand over my forehead dramatically. "George, the pain is killing me." I grinned.

"Get on," He laughed.

I smiled as he placed me in the passenger's seat of his car. He got in the driver's seat and drove us back to his house. When we arrived, he got out of his car, got me out, and carried me in. He placed me down on his couch.

"Tea?" He offered. I nodded and he left. A few minutes later, he came back in with our tea. He sat down next to me as I took a sip.

"We should run away." He said randomly.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because at any moment we could have an angry Paul barging through my door. And I don't feel like dealing with him on such a lovely day." He said, sitting back and drinking some of his tea.

I smirked. "Well, I agree. Let's run away." I said.

George stood. "I'm going to change. Need anything?"

"Well, something warm to cover me up." I nodded.

He smiled and walked away. He came back wearing jeans and a blue button down. He looked like a normal person. He then tossed me a sweater that looked twice my size. He noticed me looking at the size. "Deal with it."

I rolled my eyes and put it on. I held the ends of the sleeves in my hands.

Suddenly, someone was pounding their fist on the door. "GEORGE!" I heard Paul yell.

"Fuck!" I whispered. I bit my lip.

George quietly ran over to me and scooped me off the couch. He ran through his house and out the back door into his back yard. He grinned at me.

This is why I love George. He's the quiet one, yes, but he's mysterious, sneaky, and well, my best friend.

George ran with me bridal style this time. He ran around to the front, quickly turning to Paul. We both looked at him, and the George began to run away again, the two of us giggling.

"GEORGE, YOU GET BACK HERE WITH MY GIRLFRIEND!" Paul yelled, following behind us. He was on a limp though, from the accident.

George looked back at him, "To think I'd just give her back!" He laughed. "You have to come and get her, buddy!" He yelled.

George was pissing Paul off big time. But it was funny. _Really _funny.

We saw a bus boarding people at the nearest bus stop. George put me down in front of it so I could climb on. Before he got on, he stuck his tongue out at Paul, who was still running. "Go on," said George to the bus driver. "He's running to get in shape. He's not riding the bus today."

The driver shrugged, pulling forward as George and I began to go to the back of the bus to catch seats. Girls were going crazy at the fact that a famous guy was on the bus.

They began to scream. "Guys, lay off with the screams." I said loudly to them. Seeing that I was with George, they listened and tried their best to contain themselves.

I looked out the window to see Paul stopped on the sidewalk, looking at the bus with his puppy dog eyes as it passed by. I bit my lip. He was looking at me as if I had betrayed him. I felt guilt coming on, and I looked down.

George must've noticed what was happening because he pulled me into a hug. "He deserved it, remember?" I felt him smile.

"Yeah," I said, looking up at him. "So where exactly are we going?"

"Blackpool," He grinned. "Haven't been there since my childhood. It'll be lovely to be there again."

"And yet I've never been there," I grumbled.

He chuckled. "That's because you're from a different world," He spoke softly. "What DID you guys do for fun anyway?"

"George...sweet George. There are things in my world that won't even be created for another 50 years here." I said with the lightest of tones. "Crazy, electrical things."

He arched an eyebrow. "I'd love to be able to see those things." He said, fantasizing.

I sighed, thinking about his life in my world. His death in the early 21st century. I rested my head against him. "I know, George. I wish you could see them as well." I sighed.

George would experience the Internet, yes, but he would never be able to discover things like iPods, laptops, iPads. There would be no smart phones, or 3D flat screen TVs for George. My reality. My home away from this home. I knew George would never be able to experience what it's like to be me.

It made me want to stay in the 60s all the more.

"You alright, luv?" George asked me.

I shot my head up and looked at him questionably. He's never called me 'luv' before, I thought.

George returned the look and hesitated to speak. "What?"

"You just called me 'luv'," I informed him. "You never call me that."

"I'm sorry... I usually call Pattie 'luv'," He said. "I don't know why I called you that."

"It's alright." I said. Pattie. I frowned at the name of his fiancé.

"Now arriving at Blackpool." The driver announced to the riders.

George got up and grabbed my hand. He pulled me off the bus and we entered the fair. We ate fish and chips, played games, and even went on the Ferris wheel. George and I laughed the whole entire day. It was probably the most relaxing and happiest day of my life.


	5. Paul Statues on a Pier

**A/N: HAPPY RINGO'S DAY EVERYONE. JUST SAYIN'. Okay I am soooooooo sorry for not updating this. But I will update it in two weeks. PROMISES. **

**I WILL BE CHANGING THIS STORY'S NAME TO "For No One" VEEEEERY SOON. ACTUALLY NEXT TIME I UPDATE. haha**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them.**

**Paul's POV**

**Paul Statues on a Pier**

I entered Blackpool, arms crossed. Girls were screaming at me, despite the fake goatee I had attached to my face. I sighed, not really wanting the attention for the moment.

She stood beside me, a hardened look on her face. People were approaching her for autographs and telling her that she was their idol and so-on.

"I would've put you in a disguise," I said, "But fans would have still been able to figure out who you were." I smiled half-heartedly.

"Just like how they're figuring you out?" She smirked.

"Yeah, yeah." I chuckled. I shrugged and peeled my fake facial hair off.

We wandered the pier, not really searching for games to play. I glanced at her. She was playing with the engagement ring on her slender finger. I smiled.

"That ring," I said, "It looks so beautiful on you. It kind of completes you." I complimented.

She smiled. "What do you mean by 'completes me'?" She giggled lightly. She truly was beautiful.

"It belongs on you like Richie's rings belong on 'im." I said. "And we don't call him Ringo for nothin'."

"Oh, so now is my nickname going to become Ringette?" She grinned at me.

"Quite possibly," I smiled.

That's when something other than her pure beauty caught my attention. The people boarding the Ferris wheel.

"Oh, who doesn't love a nice ride on a Ferris wheel while the sun is setting?" I asked.

"Hmm, don't know. But sunset Ferris wheel rides remind me of some man whore, who's name just isn't coming to mind right now," She said.

"Does that man whore possibly go by the name of John Lennon?" I asked.

"Oh, that's the one," She said and we both laughed.

We stood together, watching the Ferris wheel turn as the sun set on the horizon.

**George's POV**

I laughed, hugging Meredith tightly to keep her and myself warm. God she made me happy.

Our Ferris wheel ride came to a close, and we found ourselves being slowly lowered down. The turning would stop to allow each person in each seat exit.

I was holding Meredith and looking out at the sunset when I heard her say, "Oh god."

I looked at her, and she was looking downwards with wide eyes. I followed her gaze to find Paul and Pattie standing at the bottom, with their arms crossed. Pattie just looked sort of hurt and betrayed with a hint of pissed off, and Paul had one of his many bitch faces on.

I swallowed hard. "Two best friends. A lad and a lady. On a Ferris wheel as the sun sets. Hugging each other to keep warm. Boyfriend of the lady and fiancé of the lad staring up at the friends as they come down from their ride..." I frowned and Meredith and I looked each other in the eyes. "Yeah, we're about to be accused of cheating."

She nodded in agreement. I let go of her and bit my lip. We reached the bottom and got off. We walked down the ramp and I awkwardly shoved my hands into my pockets. Meredith walked beside me.

Pattie walked up to me and slapped me across the face. It hurt like hell. I rubbed my cheek. "Bloody hell, Pattie, what was that for?" Meredith asked her.

Pattie glared at Meredith. "He needed some sense put into him! He's never cheated on me, and he needs to realize that he can't do this! He needs to learn to be faithful!"

"So you slap him?" Meredith shook her head. "You slap him because he needs to 'learn to be faithful'?" She facepalmed.

"Well if he wants to be my husband, then that's what I'll have to do." Pattie spat at the both of us.

"Pattie, I wasn't cheating on you," I looked her in the eyes. "Meredith and I are best friends and _nothing_ more."

Pattie turned away from me. She stuck her chin in the air.

"Listen, Pattie," Meredith growled. "You're no better than George in this situation if you choose to ignore him and to not even consider a word he says. It's because you're stubborn. And stubbornness in a relationship is as bad as cheating. Your big ego gets in your way and you have to be the innocent and right one in every situation. Despite what anyone tells you. You're too stubborn to believe George. Look at you. You're such a perfect fiancé." She said the last two lines with complete sarcasm.

God I love Meredith. She's nerdy. She labels herself as a "geek". She's interested in fantasy novels, and she's obsessed with JRR Tolkien's series "The Lord of the Rings" and his prequel "The Hobbit". But she's bad. All though she fails to catch it sometimes, she uses sarcasm fluently along with total sass. And she's my best friend.

I smirked lightly at Meredith and Pattie turned around. She hugged me. "I'm sorry, Georgie." She took my hand and guided me back to the car that apparently her and Paul had taken over to Blackpool. I waved "goodbye" to Meredith as Pattie and I left.

**Meredith's POV**

I watched George leave and bit my lip. There was no way Paul was going to change what he was believing. He's stubborn; just like Pattie. But more. It was possible for me to change Pattie's mind about things, but it would take me so much to change Paul's.

He glared at me. So coldly. So _very_ coldly.

I returned the glare, and soon we both had bitchfaces on. Fans were there, screaming Paul's name.

However, Paul refused to acknowledge them. The fans soon took the hint that Paul was only going to ignore them.

We stood there. Still. _Silent_. It had been at least five minutes, and Paul didn't show one look of forgiveness. All I got from his eyes was pure hatred. Pure, cold hatred.

However, I didn't hate him, and I knew I just couldn't show any hatred toward him, no matter how hard I'd try. But he managed to get it across to me. It was defeating me. He was forcing guilt and sadness into me. And we were in public, so all it was doing was ruining my badass reputation. That never happened. But because of my love for Paul, it _was_ happening.

It was as rare as touching John's heart. It was exactly like touching John's heart. John and I were the same, personality-wise. I just had a touch of geek to polish myself off. For someone to really touch our hearts and making us shatter inside was rare. And it definitely ruins our reputation when it happens in public.

Paul sent to me hatred through his eyes, and all I sent in return was love, guilt, and sadness. Although my face didn't show it, my trembling eyes sure did.

Out of the general focus my eyes presented to me, I noticed that Paul looked firm and yet fabulous. Even though he wore his regular suit, his beauty made me melt even more. I found it to be impossible to stand, looking at him.

He won the staring contest when I dropped my eyes to my feet. I picked my head up and looked behind Paul at a bus that slowly arrived at the bus stop. I brushed past Paul, expecting to be stopped by him so we could talk.

I didn't hear him move an inch. Shaking my head, I boarded the bus, and took my seat in the back again.

Paul didn't move an inch. He stood as still and stiff as a statue. Fans, I assumed, were walking up to him and speaking to him, but I never saw his head flick the slightest fraction of the inch. I knew he was ignoring them, and it was proved when the fans shrugged disappointedly and walked away from him.

The bus drove away from the bus stop, and I put my head in my hands, crying the whole way home.


	6. BrokenHearted Paul

**HEY LOVELIES. Welcome to Meredith McLennonstarrison, which is now For No One because that damn song describes it. Quick update... Umm, the song that's in here... That is The Flood by Enter The Haggis. Great band. And actually, I'm an "executive producer" of the album "Whitelake" that it's on. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Rating: T for swearing, possible...intercourse in the future... Yep.**

**DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them.**

**Meredith's POV**

**Broken-Hearted Paul**

I arrived at me and Paul's home. I walked in, knowing he would most likely be home shortly. I sat on the couch in our living room and sighed, looking at some of the guitars. I was tempted to pick one up and play it, but when I did, my heart refused to open up and accept the happiness I usually got from playing music.

I felt alone and hated. I had such a beautiful day with my best friend, but Paul decided to take a shit on it with his jealousy.

I picked up the phone and got ready to call George, but I stopped myself. I couldn't go to George for comfort. I had to give Pattie some time with him.

So I dialed a different number.

"Hullo?" A familiar voice answered.

"Hey, John?" I spoke with hesitation.

"Meredith, baby! How you doin'?" John asked in a New Yorker voice.

I chuckled. "I'm fine," I said.

"That's good." He said, going back to his regular accent. "So, have you seen Paulie yet today? I'm assuming 'no', because you're alive and talking to me, and he seemed pretty pissed when he found out that George checked you out early."

"Uh, yeah, actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about..." I said and then quickly told him about my day.

When I finished, he paused as if he were pondering what I said. Which was probably true. "Is he home now?"

"No," I said. "And I'm not looking forward to seeing him either."

"Mhm," He said. "And George probably isn't the best lad to go to right now..."

I nodded as if he could see me, but he continued on as if he did see my nod. "Well, you can stay at me house for the night," He offered. "And I promise, I won't try to sleep with you!" He spoke quickly.

"Smart move, Lennon," I said. "Alright, I'll pack a bag and head on over soon. Thanks."

"Don't thank me," I could hear his sly grin that was seeping through the phone. "Thank Paul."

I half-chuckled. "Bye," I said and hung up. I ran upstairs and grabbed myself a small backpack and filled it with some clothes. Before leaving, I wrote a note to Paul, saying that I was going to John's. I knew it'd piss him off. And that's what my goal was.

I pulled on my coat and made my way out of the house. I held my keys in my hands, my fingers trembling from the cold, autumn evening. It was about 8 in the night. The cold breeze calmed me, even though the trembling in my fingers was supported by the anxiety I received from Paul's hateful glare earlier today.

I slid into the front seat of my car, putting my right hand on the steering wheel as I used the other to stick the key in the vehicle's ignition. I sighed, zoning out on the house before me. It was beautiful. It was mine. But a lump crawled up my throat as it dawned on me that the house I was calling my home would soon become temporary.

I drove out of the driveway as shame and sadness drove into me. As I crept down the street, I said goodbye to the house, in case I would never return. The house was dark and returned the sorrow that it was given when I said my farewell to it. I slouched in my seat, and let a tear trail down my cheek.

Although Paul and I never ended it earlier, I knew that our relationship would soon come to a close due to the stress and publicity that began to clog it up. It killed me on the inside. And what worried me even more was the fact I knew that if I continued being best friends with George, Paul and George's friendship would come to an end. If they hated each other, then the band could break up. I could possibly break up the most legendary band in history. I would become the parallel world's Yoko.

I couldn't let their friendship end. I couldn't become the new Yoko. I never intended for there to one day be bumper stickers that'd say "Still pissed at Meredith." I hated knowing the potential future. I intended on saving it, not destroying it.

I would save it. My decision to go to John's flat for the night was just a glimpse of what I had to do to save the future of the Beatles. But going to John's house wasn't the main thing I would have to do to change the course of the future...

I would have to give up George.

I would have to save George and Paul's friendship. Though Paul would still hold a grudge on George for breaking him and I up, if I never spend time with George, he wouldn't have reason to get mad at George for spending time with me.

I pulled up John's driveway to see him leaning against the door frame, smirking. I wiped the tear from my eye quickly and grabbed my bag. I got out of the car and walked up to him.

"Why, hello there, Meredith," John said in his seductive tone of voice. I rolled my eyes. He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me into his house.

In many ways, the warmth of John's touch made me feel better; however, I couldn't get over the guilt of going to his house.

John showed me around to the kitchen, the music room, the many bathrooms, his room, etc. He finally showed me to the spare room, which was beautiful for a room that's never used. "And this is where you'll be sleeping," John said, coming out in front of me. "Unless, of course, you'd rather sleep with me." He smiled slyly.

I laughed. "Still not working, Lennon." I bit my lip and walked past him. I put my bag on the bed and sat next to it. I stared off at the wall, thinking of Paul. Sorrow and guilt plastered over my face. John sat down next to me, noticing the look on my face, and pulled me into a hug. I rested my head on his shoulder and sobbed quietly.

**Paul's POV**

The wind of her ghost frightened me.

I stood on the pier. She had just walked past me to the bus to make her way home. I didn't dare to watch Meredith leave. I knew that I'd only feel great pain from it. I would cry.

It was my fault. Instead of trying to talk to her, I gave her the coldest of stares. It was a stupid idea, considering the fact that I'm good at what she calls "bitchfaces". I was angry, yes, but I didn't mean to show her any hatred. I love Meredith more than anything in the world, but my stare didn't tell her that. It told her the opposite, and I knew it.

My girl had gone away with the thought that I hate her.

My anger turned into guilt. I turned and began to walk off the pier and to the sidewalk. I couldn't let her believe that I no longer loved her. I had to talk to her. And I had to do it before she left me for good. With the determination to keep her, I began to run home.

What would I say to her? We've had fights and we've had times where I'd hurt her. All those times I knew it would be alright afterwards, and I'd have my usual way of comforting her. But this time..._This time_ I knew that I was going to lose her. It was the last straw.

Trust. Trust was the last straw. And we've lost it.

I had to do something, I _had_ to say the right thing. My mind was running as fast as my feet. I finally barged through the door. "MEREDITH!" I called to her, out of breath. I put my hands on my knees for support as I took deep breaths. I waited for a few moments, knowing that she'd take a bit to work up the nerves to come downstairs. When she didn't answer, I tried again. "Babe!"

No response.

I rolled my eyes. "She's so stubborn," I muttered to myself. I walked through the hall to the stairs so I could go up to our room and get her. Something caught my eye on my way: a stray piece of paper on our organized counter.

I walked up to it and picked it up. It was a note and it was addressed to me. It read:

_Paul,_

_I've figured that you don't really want to see me tonight (and probably never again), so I decided to do you a favor and leave._

...A tear ran down my cheek. "No," I said. "She can't leave...NO!" I ran a hand through my hair, stressed and hurt, but I continued on reading...

_I don't know when I'll be back, but when I do come back, I'll be sure to grab all my stuff. I'll be staying at John's place for a bit, so if you want my stuff out now, you can bring it there. Thanks._

_-Meredith_

I clenched my fist that held the paper. "Oh, she is _not_ staying at John's!" I yelled. I grabbed my coat that I left earlier and put it on as I made my way out of the door. I got in my car and drove to John's with speed.

**General POV**

"Alright, you play me the song," said John. Meredith groaned. "And I'll massage your shoulders as you do." John grinned at her.

Meredith narrowed her eyes. "I don't know if I should trust you in this deal."

Earlier on that night, John had taken a long shower before making dinner for him and Meredith. During the time of those two events, Meredith managed to write a song. She announced it to John during dinner that she wrote a song, but she refused to play it for him. And so came John's favorite trick: bribery.

"How could you not?" John asked. "I give you a wonderful 'John Massage' _while _you play the song for me. There's no way of getting out of it for either of us."

Meredith rolled her eyes. "Fine." She finally gave in.

"Yes!" John said, and sat behind Meredith on the couch. His feet were on either side of Meredith, which at first made her uncomfortable, but it stopped bothering her when John began to rub her shoulders. It was soothing for Meredith, and it sent chills up her spine. John chuckled when she shivered. "Play," He ordered softly.

And so she did.

_By 2 pm the rain is gone_

_Clear and cold above_

_Water slowly fills the shadows on the lawn_

_Never makes a sound_

_Leave it all behind you and head for higher ground_

_All these years_

_Of commitments and careers_

_We're all up to our ears in fear and doubt_

_And water flowing_

_Down and out_

_Down and out_

_We all try_

_To drown it out_

_Drown it out_

_And stay dry_

_We all try_

_Quietly the valley fills_

_With nothing but a sigh_

_They shake their heads from high up on the hill_

_Where everything is dry_

_No need to build a boat_

_Under sympathetic skies_

_So we fight_

_To be warm and water tight_

_It's not the sunshine blinding us_

_It's just the fear of finding that we're_

_Down and out_

_Down and out_

_We all try_

_To drown it out_

_Drown it out_

_And stay dry_

_We all try_

_And maybe there's still time_

_Maybe we should find a tree to climb_

_But it's easier not to be afraid_

_And simply close your eyes_

_Than just watch the water rise_

_We all try_

_To stay dry_

She finished the song with the light strum of her strings.

When Meredith expected John to stop massaging her shoulders, he didn't. In fact, his touch became stronger than before. She set the guitar on the ground in a way so it was leaning up against the couch beside them.

Without much change of position for both, John laid back against the couch, pulling Meredith back on him. He yawned as he was getting tired and then moved his arms from Meredith's shoulders to around her. He put his hands over Meredith's, lacing their fingers together in a strange, yet comfortable way. He brought their hands to rest on her stomach.

Meredith was comfortable and didn't want to move away from John, but she felt guilty for it. She was still only in a relationship with Paul earlier on. It was bad enough that she was _at_ John's, never mind cuddling with him. She began tapping her fingers on her stomach nervously.

"Meredith," John whispered in her ear, stopping her fingers by lightly taking hold of them. "Just sleep."

She could tell by his whisper that he was falling asleep. And so she closed her eyes, and the two of them drifted off to sleep.


End file.
